


Deliver Me to Cleveland

by Karios



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kamilah is Awful, Michael & Janet Interfere, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: Someone had to save Tahani.





	Deliver Me to Cleveland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spacecadet72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/gifts).



Jason knew four things. One, the Jacksonville Jaguars were the best team to ever team. Two, jalapeño poppers were poppin. Three, always follow the music. And four, what a statue looked like as it fell. The latter two came in handy as he found himself next to very pretty, very angry woman in a tie and apron that was going to topple that dope gold statue. Probably right on top of herself like that time he pulled the Christmas tree over when he was three. He’d seen it on a tape his uncle had made. And while he’d been okay after the tree, that statue looked awfully heavy. So he tackled her.

They went sprawling, rolling over and over. It’s fun being squished up next to someone who smells this nice, Jason decided.

“Get off me, you utter freak!” screeched the pretty woman as they came to a stop. Other people were saying things too, but they were pretty well drowned out by the sound of the giant gold statue hitting the ground with an equally giant thud.

“Sure thing,” said Jason, who stood up and retrieved his hat, and tugged his pants back into place. He reached down to help the woman up. She stared at his hand with her nose crinkled for several moments.

“Don't worry, homie. I have a lot of practice pulling friends up off floors. My main bud, Pillboi, falls over at least once a day!”

She accepted the hand up, but immediately wiped her hand on her slacks.

“See, Tahani? This is the sort of thing I was talking about.”

“I beg your pardon, Kamilah?” Tahani turned away from Jason to face someone else.

“You should. Look at the riff raff you attract. This hooligan isn't even dressed for the occasion.”

Jason waved. “Whoa, you look like the statue on the ground.”

“This, this riff raff saved my life!”

“There's no need to get hysterical, Tahani.”

“Hysterical. _Hysterical._ " Her voice got a bit squeaky, like someone doing a Mickey Mouse impression. "The only thing there's no need of is speaking to you. Goodbye, Kamilah. Come along, riff raff.” Tahani grabbed Jason by the hand, tugging him all the way out of the venue, but stopped shortly outside the double doors.

"Are we waiting for something?" Jason asked.

"I suppose not." Tahani slumped down the outer wall, blowing out a puff of air.

“By the way, I'm not Riff Raff, whoever that is. Awesome name though. I'm Jason Mendoza.”

“Enchanted, I'm Tahani Al-Jamil.” She stuck out a hand, which Jason slapped.

“Low five, alright!”

Tahani burst into tears.

“You seemed kinda bummed,” observed Jason.

“I am very bummed, Jason Mendoza.”

“I have the best idea to cheer you up. You're gonna love it.”

Tahani allowed herself to be led down the street.

* * *

Meanwhile at their tape readout stations, Janet frowned.

“Janet, what is it? Did something happen to Tahani? Did you fail to save her?”

“I didn't save her. Jason did,” replied Janet cheerily.

“Jason? You put Tahani and Jason together, in Cleveland?”

Janet nodded. “Just like you put Eleanor and Chidi together in Australia.”

“That was different.”

“Uh-huh,” agreed Janet.

“Janet, are you agreeing with because you agree, or you agreeing because you don't agree but want to be agreeable.”

“Uh huh.”

Michael scrubbed a hand in front of his face. “Janet, why did you bring Jason to Tahani?”

“Because Tahani makes Jason happy. I love Jason and I want him to be happy.”

“Where are they now?”

“At a fast food restaurant,” reported Janet.

* * *

Jason’s idea of a place to cheer Tahani up turned out to be a restaurant that served primarily chicken wings. It was cramped and loud, decorated in neon and several large television sets broadcasting several kinds of sport. A bored looking teenager led them through the crowd, past several boisterous...fans who were crudely discussing the call made by one of the officials. Arriving at their seats did not make it better. They were coated in brightly colored vinyl. Vinyl was meant for records, not interior decorating. As she slid into the booth and landed in something sticky, Tahani wondered if she might have better off being crushed under giant gold Kamilah.

Her slightly odd savior, however, looked positively blissful as he took the seat next to her. “What do you think?”

“It’s very, charming.” Tahani forced a smile. “Listen, Jackson...”

“It’s Jason,” corrected Jason. “Or my friends call me J-dawg. But you can call me Jackson if you really want to.”

“Jason,” Tahani began again, “this was incredibly thoughtful of you, but I really must be going.” She made a light shooing motion.

“Ohhh.” Jason stood up. “That’s a bummer. No one should have to leave before eating at least one jalapeño popper. These aren't as good as the one's at Stupid Nick’s, but they’ll do.”

Tahani glanced up. “That's not very charitable to your friend Nick.”

“I'm not calling Nick stupid. Stupid Nick’s Wing Dump is my favorite restaurant back home in Jacksonville. It was the bomb. My friend Pillboi and I went there all the time, unless we needed guac.” Jason went on this way for a while, peppering his speech with words like ‘fresh,’ ‘dope,’ and ‘duh’ that made whatever he was saying nearly unintelligible.

Somewhere along the way, Jason’s much celebrated appetizer arrived, and Tahani still hadn't stood up. “Take a popper for the road, homie.”

Tahani prodded one one of the greasy nuggets with a fork. “I don't think I'm a popper person.” She giggled at the alliteration.

“No way.” Jason’s eyes go wide. “The only people who don't like these haven't had one.”

“Well I haven't,” admitted Tahani, sliding back into the booth and letting Jason reclaim his seat.

He positively flopped in next to her, grabbing one of the tray’s offerings with his fingers like some kind of animal. “You almost died without ever eating the greatest food known to mankind? That's a real tragedy.”

Suddenly the weight of the past forty-eight hours descended on Tahani, crushing her not unlike a gold sculpture might have. Her eyes brightened with fresh tears, and before she could second guess herself, she crumpled into Jason's arms.

“Just last week I was on a floating reunion, that's a party on a pair of yatchs with my dear friends Heidi, Spencer, and Audrina... and now I’m sobbing into polyester.”

“No, I’m not Polly or Ester, and I’m pretty sure those are girls names. Not that boys don't have girl names sometimes, but I’m Jason,” he pronounced his name slowly, enunciating hard as though Tahani were the one who was dense.

“No, Jason, polyester is a fabric, likely part of the composition of your shirt.”

Jason pinched a section of his shirt out to look. Tahani blew her nose in it, then straightened.

“I am most sorry.”

“For what?”

“For making an utter and complete idiot of myself.”

Jason shrugged. “Everyone needs a good cry sometimes. Can I ask you a question?”

Tahani nodded. “I suppose you’ve earned the right.”

“Who was the gold statue girl?”

"You can't be serious. She was the guest of honor at the awards?"

"What Awards?"

“You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of Kamilah Al-Jamil?”

“Was I supposed to?” Jason winced, his face scrunching hard. "Is this a test? I hate tests. Is she a president?”

Tahani laughed, an undignified giggle-and-snort combination that left her choking on air. Jason slid over a glass of water, still, not even sparkling. After a brief hesitation, Tahani pushed the glass away and composed herself. "Kamilah is a musician, and my sister.”

“Not a very good one.”

Tahani’s usual response, to politely sidestep or redirect, vanished in the face of Jason's unflinching honestly. “No, she's not.” Tahani speared one of the remaining offerings, and took a small bite. It was soggy and greasy and she noted the inferior mouthfeel of white flour breading and processed cheese.

Jason looked over at Tahani, as expectant as Godmother's family Corgis.

"They're not half bad."

Jason punched the air.

“Jason, what brings you Cleveland anyway?”

* * *

Michael glanced over at Tahani’s readout and nudged Janet. “I was wondering that myself.”

“Oh I added airholes and a shipping label to his crate.” Janet popped out and back with a large sticker declaring Live Cargo and the address.

Michael glanced from the readouts to Janet and back again, reprimands dying on his tongue. It was crazy enough to work.

  



End file.
